


Kaia's Hemlock

by YukitenTheDark



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Drugs, F/M, Gore, Werewolf, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukitenTheDark/pseuds/YukitenTheDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of the hunt for the vargulf in Hemlock Grove, Peter Rumancek has fallen for ever so normal Kaia Hemsworth, a quiet girl with many an eye set upon her. Scars litter her skin and Peter demanded to know why, only to find that a vargulf had attacked her when the killings first began. Roman finds his way to the trailer and the hunt resumes. Kaia is injured once again, too eager to help regardless of her scars and memories. All the while, the vargulf's identity remains unknown and the killings continue. They'll stop eventually, but it'll take a life to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Duly note that useless smut will be a highlight of this story. If you don't like it, I don't know what to tell you. Just enjoy it. Oh, and this is based off of both the book and the show. More obviously the show.
> 
> I realize Peter might be on the OOC side, but surely you'll forgive me? Some errors are intentional. Adds to the effect. Also, I like 'unfluffed' as a word, so I'm keeping it as such.
> 
> ENJOY

Kaia shuddered the moment his fingers touched the soft skin of her hip, a light moan slipping past her lips as his tongue worked its magic. Every muscle in her body loose and ready for the moment he would stop teasing her. She moaned once more, his tongue tickling a sensitive spot, and her fingers wove into his fly-away hair and held on tightly, pushing and tugging with the ebb and flow of his masterful tongue.

"A-ahh... Peter," she groaned, writhing under his hot mouth. His hands groped and toyed with her breasts, fingers flicking her soft nipples, tongue delving between the folds. A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and he dragged a hand down her chest and belly, delighted by her quiet though high-pitched moans, and gave her one last lick. She huffed and arched her back, practically begging on her hands and knees. So to speak. Peter grinned a wolfish grin, hungry for the very thing he denied himself earlier that evening.

His eyes washed over her for a moment, drinking in her begging form. She was a petite girl, thin and healthy, though scarred; One long scar from the bottom of her soft left breast to the top of her belly button and another smaller one crossing it from rib to rib. She had yet to explain it. Her hair was long and a deep chestnut brown, accenting her green eyes and freckled face. He couldn't keep himself from grabbing a handful. She mewled, her breaths heavy and loud.

"Kaia..." Peter started, taking in the hot scent of her sex. She was beautiful underneath him.

"P-Peter..." she hissed, biting her lip when he pulled her hair. God, she loved it. She wanted more, so much more. She wanted to feel his sweet breath on her skin once more, taste him, feel his hard length enter and exit her, filling her to the brim at a constant speed until she could no longer grasp the world between her tiny fingers.

He leaned over her, pulling a thin leg over his shoulder. "I love you," he growled. He was hardly good with words or admitting things and Kaia knew it. Her green eyes stares needily into his blue ones and she smiles a begging smile, to which he only poised himself.

'Oh, hoho... No kindness from me,' he thought wickedly, his lust and love mixing to form a dangerously sexy look in his eyes. He prodded her, pulled her hair, rubbed her in all the right spots, and nibbled on the crook of her soft neck. She smelled just so good...

"Peter, please," Kaia pleaded, but to no avail.

He poised himself once again, the tip resting on her hot, wet entrance. She groaned and once he let go of her leg, she wrapped both of them around his hips, urging him, pulling him. He bit her neck a little harder this time, sucking softly at her flesh as his fingers pressed that small button between her wide-open legs. Her efforts were next to useless. Still, he only prodded her perfect little entrance.

Kaia protested, her fingers tangled in his hair. She looked at him, her eyes half-lidded, and gave him her best glare, knowing full well the Romani prick was enjoying this. She could see it in his blue eyes.

"Hurry up and fuck me, Peter."

He arched an eyebrow and sniggered. "Well... Fine, if you want it so bad." Peter wasted no time. He buried himself inside her in one fell swoop, his lips finding hers in the efforts to hush her airy scream, massaging her breasts in soft, gentle circles. She whimpered a long whimper into his mouth, waiting for him to remove himself even though she desperately wanted him more, his tongue playing with hers, no mercy given.

"Ah-ahhh, oh, god," she huffed, moaning and groaning in relief and displeasure alike as he pulled himself out of her. Kaia breathed heavily against the shell of Peter's ear, her teeth defiantly nipping at his earlobe. He smirked to himself and thrust back inside, catching that sweet moan in his ear, finding an even pace. Her nails scratched at his back and arms as she held onto him, hips slowly coming to roll into his as they became one with each other.

They breathed heavily, grunting and moaning as their bodies swayed in the heat. His hips barreled into hers, thrusting hard and quick like a man would beat a drum and the sweet sound of his name on her lips filled his ears. He latched onto a breast, nibbling and suckling, forcing a loud moan from her. Her back was arched, belly pressed against his chest, breasts encircling his face.

"P-Pet-- Ahhh..." she moaned out, hardly able to pronounce a damn thing, let alone say it without interruption from one of her moans. The man thrust inside her and quickly pulled out, much to Kaia's surprise, and pulled his head up to see her body splayed out before him, hands firmly on her hips. He couldn't keep himself from drinking in her beautiful, sexy form, his length getting to be of sore hardness.

"Kaia," Peter growled, longing and the pain from his erection underlying tones in his voice. He flipped her over onto her hands and knees, a handful of hair tight between his fingers, and reclaimed her sweet hole. She was a tight one, he admitted, and even wetter. So much so he could smell it on her a mile away. He groaned, thrusting in and out as a manner of teasing and because it felt so fucking good.

The tiny girl underneath him moaned her loudest, clawing and biting at his unfluffed pillows to muffle her noise and give her something to tear into when her nearing orgasm hit. And it would hit her like a vicious hurricane hits a southern state. Peter plunged into her, loving her insides and caressing her outsides. He rolled her button between his thumb and index, rubbing and pulling at the sensitive bundle of hot nerves, all the while plowing into her. She could barely take it, hanging onto reality by a tiny, white hot thread.

The pleasure tore through her body with just one more thrust, and she moaned - nay, practically screamed - Peter's name, her muscles tightening around his erection, body shaking slightly with the power of her orgasm. And with each hard thrust, it intensified. She couldn't utter a sound, the world far from her mind in this glorious state of pleasure.

Peter grunted, huffed, groaned, and moaned all at once when she tightened, the action squeezing out his own fierce orgasm. He held her tightly against his chest, arms around her hips and chest, fingers digging into her skin like so many times before, hot seed bursting into her. His body shook with hers as they rode out their orgasms, tiny moans escaping between their breaths as they came back from that euphoric high.

He held her tightly, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She was his and his alone: the girl with no last name and brutal scars across her, hair like the warmth of the forest and eyes as green and lush as spring time leaves, a scent alike all the world's flowers and waterfalls all in one, and sex unrivaled. And he had her all to himself.

Peter nibbled on her neck, collapsing sideways with her in his arms. His fingers traced the slight puff of scar tissue along her belly and ribs, showering her neck with gentle kisses. She breathed and smiled, her fingers finding his curious ones and holding them tight. She knew he wanted to know. The scars on her belly were the only ones that he could see. No doubt his mind was too focused on pleasure and fucking to see the rest. For that she was thankful, but she knew she'd have to tell him eventually. And that would not be to--

"So," he drawled, resting back against his pillows, hand behind his head. "Where'd your scars come from?"

Kaia growled inwardly. Maybe it did have to be today, but she didn't want it to be. "Why?"

"Because they're fucking huge as balls. Just answer the question," he snapped, sarcasm and defensiveness mixing in his voice. His hand laxed in hers.

She hesitated, smiting the gods with their poor timing. Drawing a breath, she frowned and looked away, buckling under his tone. "I got them... when I was running," she started, unsure, lost, and angry. She didn't want to talk about it, let alone remember what had happened. It wasn't a good memory, by any stretch of the word, obviously. Why couldn't he just let her bask in the bliss of their sex?

"From what...?" he prodded.

"Y'know that thing - a vargulf, was it? - was chasing me through the forest earlier that day the killings first started," she replied softly, almost inaudibly. Nothing more could be said. She heard Peter's cool growl, irritation leaking into his voice. She would say no more, and he surely must've know that.

All was silent for a moment, save for their breathing, slow and thoughtful, contemplative and angry. Kaia wanted to move, get out of bed. The silence was bugging her. She let go of his unmoving hand and tried sitting up, only to be pulled back into his chest. "I'm sorry," he said, nuzzling her neck, fingers finding those scars once more.

"Don't worry about it," she muttered.

"How could you tell it was a vargulf?"

"A wolf typically eats what it kills. I stumbled upon the site of it ripping open a deer, fangs dripping with blood." Her voice was stoic and calm, carrying the slightest hint of sadness. "But, aside from the organs spilling out of the deer's belly, it had otherwise been untouched and when the wolf turned it's eyes onto me, I could feel it. Those beady, yellow eyes ..."

Peter nodded his head still seated in the crook of her neck, breathing slowly.

"I turned tail and ran, its jaws snapping at my heels. Thankfully, there was a ravine. I fell, and even though its jaws found my leg, the tumble took it in a completely different direction. The scars on my stomach and arms came from broken tree branches. The scars on my leg came from that wolf."

"So that's why you won't let me down there that often," he chuckled. That was quite possibly the only thing she didn't like about Peter: he always gave a sarcastic remark or made light of the situation.

"Asshole," she quipped, cuffing his ear.

Oh, but he caught her hand and climbed on top of her, staring down at her with his intoxicating blue eyes. He straddled her, holding her hands together with one above her head, his hand groping at the soft mounds of flesh on her chest. She shivered beneath him, goosebumps forming on her skin. He grinned at her.

"P-Peter, again, really?" she hissed, shivering once more.

"Hush," he commanded, lips meeting hers in a hard crash. He tongued the entrance of her mouth, pinching and pulling on her nipples.


	2. Enter Godfrey

Kaia watched him pour her a tall glass of ice water in all his shirtless glory, her green eyes tracing the shape of his jaw and lips. Though she didn't like facial hair, she supposed she could live with the vast amount of whiskers hiding his face. It was sexy, but only on him. She leaned into the soft arm of the couch, just watching him. That is, until his eyes shot up from the glass and landed on hers.

"Never figured you for a starer," Peter chuckled, turning the knob on the sink to its off position.

She blushed, but only lightly, and smiled. "Can't help but admire your lovely face."

He quirked an eyebrow, sniggered, and walked through the kitchen doorway, bringing her the water he poured her.

"I am certainly a sexy beast," he remarked, gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb before sitting down on the couch right next to her. He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her hips in an intimate hug. She threw her arms around his neck, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Never took you for a romantic."

"Well, I can be. In the right place and at the right time," he said matter of factly, straightfaced.

Kaia rolled her eyes and smacked his arm lightly. "Jerk."

Peter only chuckled.

"I love you," she said quietly after a moment, playing with the ends of his hair.

"I love you, too." His hand moved to the sides of her face, thumbs tracing her cheekbones.

She smiled at him and pecked his lips, nuzzling his nose while he ran his fingers through her chestnut hair. Leaning into him, she stole another peck, her eyes finding his.

"Up for another round?" he inquired.

Kaia blinked. "Are you fucking crazy?"

"I'll take that as a no, then. No boner here, anyway," Peter said sarcastically, dropping his hands and placing them on her hips. Needless to say, he wanted more. A lot more.

"What part of 'oh stop Peter' didn't you get from earlier?"

"Sorry, raging hormones here."

"Look, I get it, but if I have to do a missionary position one more time, my legs are going to fall off. It hurts, y'know."

"Hurts what? Your precious ligaments?" He batted his eyelashes at her, sarcasm clear as a bell in his voice.

"Tendons."

He shrugged, feigning surrender.

She stared at him for a moment longer, pulling her arms back from around his neck. As much as she wanted more from him, her body couldn't take so much of it in so little time. It'd been twenty or so minutes since their last bout and she was sore. How was he not done yet?

'Boys are just full of that 'let's fuck' hormone,' she decided.

She could tell he wasn't amused by the look on his beautifully disappointed face. It was almost as if he were-- Was that a pout? Kaia shook her head slightly and glared at him.

"No, and that's the end of it. Maybe later," she said firmly.

He pulled her into him, slamming his lips upon her own, nipping at her bottom lip. He felt her shiver in his lap as they kissed, lips parting, tongues dancing. Breaths came in short and loud, Kaia's hands found the large mound in Peter's pajama pants, rubbing and squeezing the erection. He groaned lightly, biting her lip once again. He shoved her off of him and onto the other side of the couch, climbing on top of her tiny form.

One hot gaze found another and without a second thought, they were removing each other's clothes. Peter's pants were the first to go, taken off by nimble fingers and eagerly tossed aside in the heat of their needing and wanting. Kaia's eyes landed on the lengthy erection now resting against her belly, drinking in its size and girth. Her heart beat fiercely against her rib cage as he tore her shirt from her body, immediately leaning down to nibble and nip at her flesh.

The door to the trailer opened without warning and slammed against the wall, rattling and tapping against it. Kaia squealed and hid herself, quickly grabbing the blanket off the back the of the couch, while Peter growled, sighed, and looked to the doorway. Roman Godfrey stood in all his arrogance, leaning against the metal doorframe.

"Sorry. Didn't know you two were fucking," Roman snapped, eyes rolling and a hand digging into his coat pocket, whipping out a case and a lighter. He produced a cigarette, placed it between his lips, and lit it.

Kaia shot him a glare and opened her mouth to protest, but Peter shushed her, his eyes shut and brows furrowed. When he opened them, he turned to Roman.

"What the hell are you doing here?"


	3. Provocation

"You got a flashlight?" Roman asked, taking a lazy drag on his cigarette, eyes drifting between Peter and Kaia, who refused to say a word to him since he got to the trailer, she could smell him and that seemed to be enough to make her keep her distance. Not that he cared. The people around town did it to him all the time, every chance they got. In their eyes, he was a spoiled little brat, druggie, asshole, whathaveyou, and he could promise to you right now he wasn't.

But Kaia couldn't be told otherwise. She believed wholeheartedly that he was a worthless piece of shit. And that might be because the Godfreys built on her grandmother's land, giving hefty compensation. She didn't like that. She didn't like that the Godfreys thought they could do anything and get anything they wanted if they wanted it, because they wanted it. And their behaviors disgusted her. Thus her attitude towards Roman. Just as well, he didn't like her anyway. 

But she at least took care of his sister.

"Yeah," Peter replied, thin-lipped and mildly empty, almost disappointed. He pulled on his leather jacket and pushed himself off of the hood of Roman's car, giving Kaia a quick peck as he passed and hopped down the zig-zagging stairs leading back to the trailer. She watched him go, arms crossed tightly over her chest in mild irritation, and shook her head. She really didn't want to be around Roman.

He snapped his fingers. "Hey." But she ignored him, watching Peter disappear past the trees and far left end of the trailer. 

Roman steadily became frustrated by her and took to yelling at her. "Hey!" And her head snapped around, brown curls flying over her shoulders and green eyes like daggers, wide and narrow. Maybe it'd be best not to stir up conversation. 

But this was Roman Godfrey. He always got what he wanted.

"What?" she snapped, her voice almost a growl.

"Shee-it. What's your problem anyway?"

Kaia turned away from him and leaned against the wooden fence, glaring into the green of the trees and shrubbery. She drew in an irritated breath, frowning at the thought of the Godfrey boy trying to talk to her. There was just something about him that made her skin crawl, aside from what his family did to her grandmother. He was too pale, you could see heavy bags under his eyes and his veins run blue under his skin, and his lips were too thick. He looked like he'd popped out of Twilight with extra lip plumper. She leaned her head into her palm, her hair caught between her fingers, and breathed slowly. His behavior seemed to be a testament to his looks. He always smelled of alcohol or smoke, it always hung on his breath, and he kept sniffling like a child. If Kaia didn't know better, she'd think he had a cold. But she knew better. The kid was a drug addict. Though, that wasn't quite the reason he made her skin crawl. 

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you."

"I'm not fucking deaf," she snapped.

Kaia frowned and leaned heavily into her palm as she stood against the wood fencing, brooding. She couldn't place Roman. She couldn't figure where to put him in her broad spectrum of judgements and annoyances. What was he? 'Cos he sure as hell wasn't human, no matter how you look at him.

Then she remembered something Peter had said: 'He's an Upir.' And then he compared it: 'Y'know, like a vampire.' It clicked, but she couldn't believe it. It made too much sense, like it was too obvious an explanation. He couldn't be a vampire, right? She pictured him with sharp teeth... She shuttered. Yeah, too much sense. Way too much.

"Well, princess? Spit it out." Sarcastic prick.

"You make my skin crawl," she growled, shooting him an irritated glare. "I don't like you. You're a spoiled piece of shit. And, let's not forget, your fucking family is a bunch of inconsiderate, psychotic little freaks!"

Hit him where it hurts. 

Kaia watched his face twist in anger and she even chuckled, reveling in the feelings she just shit on. It was only fair. 

"Someone's feelings versus someone's welfare, which is most important? Oh, that's right! The Godfreys wouldn't know," she said bitterly, not even trying to hide her disgust.

In the midst of her bitter rantings, Roman got too close. His face was in hers and his legs between her own, his hand sliding slowly up to her neck. 

"Do it. You don't have the nerve to do any-goddamn-thing else." She dared him. Peter would have his fucking head. And then he caught her throat in his hands, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing.

She couldn't breathe, but fuck her. How dare she disrespect him, disrespect his family! Roman squeezed harder, watching her face change colors this way and that, her eyes glaring him down, not even putting up a fight. 

"Hey!" howled a male voice from below. Peter. Fuck. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

Roman let go and stepped away from Kaia. She spluttered and coughed, catching her breath and steadily regaining the life he'd just tried to choke out of her. Her heart pounded in her ears, but she smiled to herself through the pain in her chest and the pain in her throat. Chuckles escaped past every gasp she let out, twisted grin not far behind. She heard heavy and quick steps come closer and closer between her heart beats, a headache forming in the front of her skull. 

"Kaia! Are you okay?" Peter asked, tightly wrapping his arms around her, pulling away, checking for bruises. Feeling her throat and hugging her tighter. He stroked her hair, nuzzling the top of her head. He felt her nod to answer his question and he let her go, hands on her shoulders. She looked at him and he looked at her, a sigh escaping them both. 

"I'm all right," she said raspily.

Peter nodded and spun around to face Roman. "What the fuck, Roman?"

"She provoked me."

"I don't give a shit! What the fuck were you thinking? How could you possibly think it would be okay to strangle a woman, MY woman? Are you insane?" Peter snapped, his hand finding Kaia's. 

Roman didn't say anything, but he shot the girl a glare.

"Holy fuck, Roman!"

Peter ran his fingers through his hair and frowned deeply, anger all over his face. He wasn't the violent type, Kaia respected that, even though he wanted to beat the bloody shit out of Roman. 

"... You got the flashlight?" 

A sigh. "Yeah." Peter pat the leather bag slung over his shoulder - something they all seemed not to notice. Kaia could see his discomfort and rested her head on his shoulder, playing with his fingers.

"Where are you going?" she asked softly, voice still raspy.

"Cemetery."

"Can I go?" 

"No." - "Yes."

The fact the boys gave their answer so quick, even at the same time, made Kaia shiver.


	4. Graveyard Memories P1

"This poison's my intoxication, I broke the needle off in my skin," rang the familiar voice of Burt McKraken through Kaia's headphones. The Used were a favorite of hers, ever since she discovered them, and she'd listened to them every day up until now. And, even as she sat alone in a wooden chair at a coffee shop nursing a small cup of coffee, she listened to them joyously. "Pick the scabs and pick the bleeding, and assume that it was all in vain."

She was often lonely (thus keeping to her music) and never went for anything she couldn't handle which was mostly the typical do-gooder. There was no flavor, no spark, and they always carried the same old baggage: religion. But you'd think she'd go after the religious types because her best friend was religious and they held good values. Well, she much preferred the opposite; A man seasoned by misfortune and covered head to toe in his own mistakes, tailed by self-disappointment and a bad habit or two, a man who enjoys playing rather than being too serious. Because with great seriousness comes great amounts of bullshit and she wasn't the type to put up with any of it. She could rein in the goody-goodies but only one or two baddies every once in a while.

The first red flag that pops up into her brain and whoever she's fooling around with is quickly not being fooled around with anymore. It's always easy, mostly because she never had any real interest in love or a serious relationship. She likes to let those things develop. They mean more. She pondered the reasons as to why from time to time, but always resorted to leaving it alone. Getting her hopes for 'the one' seemed to be even heavier fodder than she'd let herself deal with.

And there's the matter of her trust issues, at which point Burt McKraken was skipped. As much as she loves The Used and all their emotional drug-speak, My Chemical Romance and their Dead! sounded much more appealing when coupled with thoughts of relationships and all that sweet bullshit.

The girl couldn't compare any of her past escapades to a father or any other male figure in her life because she had none. Her mother told her day in and day out that her father died before she was born, which caused complications during pregnancy because of a ridiculously high stress level, (Gerard Way took this moment to scream) and didn't give her any details as to how or when exactly.

"And if your heart stops beating, I'll be here one day. Did you get what you deserve?" And her grandparents had died many years before. She never had any uncles. She didn't even have a brother. Well, not an old enough one, anyway. She had a little brother named Jace but his dad skipped town when he turned three, about a year-and-a-half ago. He may be a well-behaved little boy, but he was most certainly not boyfriend material. Or comparable in terms of relationships, period. He was a child. Which actually made her sick to her stomach. Regardless, she couldn't compare anyone to anyone else because she had no one and didn't have the patience to even begin trying to compare anyone to anyone.

And so, she'd often play around with a liar who thought he could lie better.

She sighed and focused on her coffee. It was French vanilla and white chocolate flavored, tasting quite delicious if she might add. Well worth the six dollars she paid in order to get it. Even the barista behind the counter was worth tipping! The kind lady was very old - about sixty-four - and had been such an angel as she made Kaia's coffee that she just had to tip her a good four dollars. She'd made polite conversation, talking about simple things like the well-being of others and the talk of the town. They spoke until her coffee was ready and she wandered off to sit by a window.

Kaia had briefly wondered if the nice, old lady had any family, but quickly threw that thought out. As kind and wonderful as the lady was, getting too close to her (really anyone, for that matter) could ruin the daily niceties, and she really didn't want that to happen. She didn't want to be knee-deep in her business and she didn't want the lady to be even deeper in her business. It was safer that way. The less you're involved with people as a whole, the less problems you'll have and the less problems you'll cause. 

The bell above the coffee shop's door rang without warning and even though Kaia'd had a hard time hearing it, she jumped just a little and her head snapped around to see who'd come in. It was a boy with messy dark hair parted a little to the right of the middle and sharp blue-gray eyes. His eyebrows were a tad thick and he had stubble all over his jaw and cheeks, like he hadn't shaved in a day or two. His skin was light, though held some semblance of color, like a tan you get after spending too much time outside. He seemed to be eyeing something, as his face was concentrated, because he didn't notice her staring at him. His shoulders were broad under his leather jacket, something Kaia always enjoyed on a man, and level with his feet. She blinked, not quite sure what to make of that. 

He moved from the door, taking careful steps to the counter, and passed what he was focusing on. His hands were anxiously placed on the edges of the counter and the old lady came right to him to ask him what he wanted.

Kaia pulled a headphone out of her ears and listened, knowing full well how creepy she was being, but she was quite interested in the ruffian that had so awkwardly sauntered in.

"I'll take a caramel macchiato with a pump or two of French vanilla, please," he said, his voice like underground music to her ears: undiscovered and under appreciated. Not only was his voice a pleasure, but his choice in coffee was respectable. 

"That'll be six-seventy, please," the barista said, her tone just as kind and cheery as always.

"Okay, I'll see what I have, ma'am," he chuckled, digging into his pockets for the required money. If he didn't have enough money... 

Kaia wondered if it'd be a good idea to help him out. There was a possibility that things could escalate, as it goes with most everything else. As interested as she was, she was afraid of him eventually being an actual lover, if she even let it progress to that stage. But she wanted - needed - someone other than Letha Godfrey to hang around with because, let's face it, she hated the Godfrey family and all that came with it, the only exception being Letha. Their family played the real estate game dirty and stole her grandmother's property right out from underneath her, which caused the dominoes to fall: they had no place to live for a month, her mother was seven-months pregnant with her, and the Godfreys made it unbearably difficult to get a new home because of the Hemworths' 'defiance'. How Kaia and Letha came to be friends is beyond her, but she's her only friend, no matter how much she hates her family. 

She sighed, the simple, "I've only got five dollars," flowing into her ears was enough to draw her back and force her to come up and supply him with enough money for his coffee. With a screech of the chair, Kaia pulled herself out of it and walked up to the counter, digging into her coat pocket for the two dollars she had left after buying her own coffee.

"Here, let me help," she said softly after finding the money and placing it on the counter next to his five. 

There was silence for a moment.

"Oh, um, thank you," he started, "You don't have to do that."

"No, it's okay. I don't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"If I were sure about anything, I wouldn't be standing next you," she said, giving him a wink. His eyes widened very slightly and a smile calmed his nervous demeanor.

"I'll get that coffee for you, then," the old lady announced.

"Alright, thank you, ma'am," he said, his eyes leaving Kaia for only a second before returning. "I'm... Peter Rumancek."

She smiled. "I'm Kaia Hemsworth."

The two firmly shook hands and from there, they enjoyed their coffees as they spoke to each other, laughing and smiling, showing off and listening to music for the rest of the afternoon. Not an ounce of regret even touching Kaia's mind.


End file.
